


Navigating the Dark

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Teeg's Choice [3]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Alternate Universe, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not being able to see would be frustrating enough even if there weren't a retrieval unit chasing after Talyn and his crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Navigating the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Part of an AU where Teeg does not get killed at the end of "That Old Black Magic", among other changes that follow on from there.

I trust my captain when he says the blindness will be only temporary. How temporary may well depend upon how quickly he can find a medical facility is capable of repairing the injuries which have caused this. It is not, however, our primary concern, not when we have a retrieval unit searching for us, and new crew from when last we met with Moya. Finding a safe haven, and ensuring neither the Hynerian nor the Banik disturb the ability of the crew to function.

"Knock, knock, anyone home?"

The voice comes over the com near the door of my quarters, a place I have memorized in the last several solar days. It is no trouble to traverse the floor from the desk to the door, no obstacles to trip over in this artificial darkness.

It takes a moment longer than I would normally to recall the exact location of the controls and wave my hand close enough over them to open the door. An embarrassment, a weakness that I refuse to allow to continue. It is enough that I cannot see my visitor, though it is easy enough to recognize him. Crichton is stranger even than the Banik, at times, with his oddities of speech and his strange ideas.

"What do you want, Crichton?" I clasp my hands behind me out of habit, looking straight ahead into the darkness that I have to continue to believe will lift when we find what we need. It is enough to keep me from looking as lost as I feel, or at least I hope it is.

"Thought I'd drop in, say hi, see how long you were planning on hiding." He sounds like he's standing to my right, and I turn my head, raising an eyebrow at his choice of words.

"I am not hiding, Crichton. Has the captain not assigned you duties as yet, that you have the time to come here?" I am perhaps a bit harsh, but I do not desire pity nor assistance, if Crichton intends to offer either. The latter, I suspect, is something he will not be able to resist offering, if the stories spreading through the Uncharted Territories are correct.

"Nothing to repair at the moment." There is a creak of leather, as if he's making some gesture I am unable to see.

"And Officer Sun has told you to leave her be, I suppose?" I doubt that possibility highly, but it is a question I ask regardless. A pointed attempt to send him on his way, as I do not desire company.

He is silent for a long moment, before I hear him move again, though to do what, I cannot tell, and it puts me on edge. Even if I cannot see him, I can still evict him from the vicinity, and close the door. It requires only training, not sight.

"She's busy, with her prowler." His answer is short, but I can extrapolate even from that small tidbit of information. Perhaps inaccurately, but that does not matter.

"Perhaps you ought to put more effort into learning about prowlers, if she finds you a nuisance when she is doing the maintenance. I can have Senior Officer Selem provide you with material that should allow you to improve your knowledge. If that is all, Crichton, I do not desire any company at the moment."

I feel a hand touch my shoulder, light and brief as I react instinctively, my hands coming from behind me to brush his off. A movement I continue toward him, hand closing around his wrist, and twisting it behind him before I shove him away. I hear him hit the wall on the far side of the corridor with a grunt, probably merely catching himself.

Without giving him a chance to speak again, I wave my hand over where I remember the controls being, hearing the doors hiss shut.

"Talyn, lock this door. I do not desire company at the moment." It is an order sharply made, and I stalk back toward my desk as the lock clicks audibly. A reassurance from Talyn, who at least is willing to listen to me, as Crichton clearly is not.

* * *

My first expedition out of my room is late in the solar day, when most others are sleeping. Crais is awake for the night watch, but I do not expect to encounter him as I try to recreate my mental map of Talyn's corridors without the benefit of vision. No one to witness any mistakes I might make, beyond Talyn himself, and that I am as comfortable as I can be with. Not entirely, of course, but I do not risk ridicule or pity from him. Or rather, I do not expect it.

It is difficult to navigate the corridors without the ability to see where I am. Even if I had limited sight, it would be simpler. As it is, I have to remain close to the wall, my fingers lightly brushing over the ribs, counting until I find a juncture. Sixteen ribs between my room and this juncture, so long as I can find the correct corridor again.

I leave my jacket at the corridor, working my way around the juncture, counting off corridors. Only four of them here, though there is no way to distinguish one from another. Each has a set of ribs where they come together, and I remember them coming to a peak at the center. Four ribs, arching above me in a vault that supports an internal gun of the same design, almost, as that of a pulse pistol.

The one to my right, if I remember correctly, will take me aft to the mess, though I find myself most reluctant to go there. Perhaps because even at this time of night, I suspect I might find the Hynerian there. Of all the crew we picked up from Moya, he is the one I least wish to deal with.

Ahead would be command, and beyond that more quarters and the hammond-side docking bay where the transport pod and Crichton's strange ship are docked. Behind me, beyond my quarters and those of Selem and of Jors, is the treblin docking bay, and the prowlers. A direction I will take next time, but for now, I take the passage to my left.

This one goes forward, and should not be very long. Ending in a ladder, going down a tier, and continuing forward to an open space that had not existed when we first came aboard. There is a pell and mats, enough space to properly work out. A chance to improve my sense of the space around me, and late enough that no one else should be here.

For a while, that at least is true. No one but Talyn to observe my unaccustomed clumsiness, the misses on the pell. Frustrating, and I'm certain I've disoriented myself beyond the point of figuring out which of the exits is the one I need to use to return to my quarters.

"Lieutenant Teeg?" The voice is hesitant, and it takes me a moment to identify it. The Banik, Stark. I am not certain what to make of him, though he has, at least, become more stable since last we met.

"What is it?" I turn toward where his voice had come from, to at least give the illusion that I am looking at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you..." Stark is babbling, and I can hear him shift his weight, as if about to flee.

"You did not interrupt anything, I was finished with the equipment." I know I should request assistance in locating the corridor which will lead me back to my quarters, but it is difficult to show that sort of weakness. Particularly to those who are from Moya. Even Officer Sun is... different. Changed by her continued association with Crichton and the others.

"Ah." The rustle of fabric and creak of leather indicates he is shifting on his feet again. It is several microts before he speaks again, a quiet mutter about going back up to his quarters. The shuffle of his feet is enough for me to identify which corridor he is in, and to follow the sound at least as far as the door.

The Banik, like Crichton and the Hynerian, has quarters on the hammond side of Talyn. It is enough to ground me again, to give me an idea where I am in relation to the rest of the room.

I trail my fingers over the wall on the way to the other door, and pause, frowning. There's something different here, a slight variation in the feel of the wall. I consider calling the Banik back, to have him look at the wall, and tell me what he sees, but discard the idea before it has a chance to fully form.

Working my way back to the other door, I check the wall around it for that same textured patch. Nothing beyond the smooth panels and faint ridges that make up every rib, every hatch frame. Nor is the texture between the doors anything that rough, something more subtle, rather like finely processed leather. The patch near the door I am certain is the one leading to my own quarters catches, rougher.

It's nothing much, barely the size of my palm, immediately next to the frame. As if Talyn had adjusted something to make it simpler to distinguish the doors, without making it obvious enough for all to notice. Unless it was some different color, enough to catch the eye of someone not actually looking for this small patch.

Curious, I explore both sides of the passage, from the room to the ladder, then from the ladder to the juncture. There's another patch, a different texture, on either side of the passage, just aft of the rib immediately forward the ladder in the lower passage, but nothing above. Perhaps because there is only one place the one on the tier above can go, and the one below continues back, if not far as yet.

There are more just inside the other corridors at the juncture, now. Different textures in each one. That same pin-prick sort that catches on the fingertips, scraping, inside the first rib of the corridor going aft toward the mess. Something that feels softer, and slightly slicker, for treblin, and slightly more elastic for hammond. Nothing at all for forward, just the normal texture of the wall in the place where the other corridors had that patch.

Everything is subtle, just enough to catch my attention. A simple enough clue at junctures or ladders between tiers, if I keep my fingers on the wall. Though if the same texture is for aft, why only next to the treblin-side door from the exercise room? Something to puzzle out later, for now I have something to allow me to navigate Talyn's corridors without assistance from the others.

It is enough to discover that during this sleep cycle, and I start back toward my quarters. I may not be able to take watch when I am rested, but there are other matters which will require more than Jors or Selem to attend to them. Ones which do not require sight, only authority.

* * *

"I did not expect you for morning meal, Lieutenant." I can hear the surprise in my captain's voice, and the sounds of others eating ceasing for a moment.

The sense of them staring at me is enough to make me frown, even as I make my way carefully in the direction of Crais's voice. Allowing him to direct me to an empty place at the table, the same I've occupied every morning before, I'm certain of that much. There must be a way to do this without relying on someone else to tell me what I cannot see, but for now, I will tolerate it. If only to prove I am capable of navigating the corridors, at least, on my own.

The meal is quiet, and I can hear the others leave as they finish their meals, the quiet clink of dishes being placed next to the cleanser unit, the click of boots across the floor. Even the Hynerian leaves sooner than I expected he would, leaving me alone with the remains of my meal, and Crais. He hasn't moved from his place, only the scrape of utensil against the plate indicating he bothered to eat.

"Talyn and I believe we may have located a suitable medical facility...."

"Captain." I have not often interrupted him, and I can imagine the frown he will be directing at me for doing so now. "I will not place this ship or the crew in danger by forcing a stop while obtaining treatment for this injury. I will find methods by which I will minimize the weakness it represents, until we are able to remove the danger of the retrieval unit."

"I gave you my word this blindness would be only temporary." There is an emotion in his voice I cannot - nor care to - identify. There is also an underlying steel that is purely command, a captain who will not be disobeyed. "The danger posed by the retrieval squad, while quite real, is not enough to justify not obtaining proper medical treatment for any member of the crew."

"Nor is one member of your crew being incapacitated reason enough to put the rest in danger." I know convincing him of this is not something easily achieved, if at all, but I must at least make the attempt. I would be derelict in my duties if I did not. "If you make it an order, I will accompany an officer to the medical facility in one of the prowlers, but I will not permit my injuries to present a danger to everyone."

If he doesn't relent, it may be necessary to resort to methods I haven't had to use in over a cycle. He will not appreciate that, but better that than allow him to make a mistake that would risk his life and those of everyone else on board, as well as the capture of Talyn.

Crais is silent for a long moment, before saying simply that we will discuss this further later. I find that more troubling than his arguments, as it's often a sign he's made up his mind, one way or another, and I doubt he'll have made a choice best for the safety of the crew.

This won't, however, stop me from ensuring his safety and that of the crew. Whatever it takes to manage that.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on TerraFirma for Starburst Challenge 37.


End file.
